Love Thy Neighbor
by UniqueElla
Summary: Between her "I swear to God, if I hear you showering at 3 a.m. ONE MORE TIME-" and his "Please say that to the other side of my door," a friendship seems highly unlikely to form. Dawn wonders if it will be her studies that kill her, or if her new neighbor will do it first. College AU.
1. Annoyed at first sight

Of course there are no dorms left on campus. Of course. Just her goddamn luck.

It is her own fault, of course. In her infinite lack of wisdom, Dawn has put off apartment hunting till last minute. In retrospect, this is probably not her cleverest idea.

Well, she is definitely paying for it this time. So far, all the apartment complexes she's visited have absolutely no vacancies and she's growing desperate. There is nothing left that would fit both her price range and proximity requirements.

Dawn sighs, looking over the leaflet of other suggested accommodations she can rent. They are more expensive and far away from the facilities, but she has no other option. Early bird gets the worm and she, as per usual, is as late as can be.

 _I'm a stupid asshole,_ she scolds herself as she trudges her feet towards the last apartment complex she'll check for the day. _Serves me right for putting this shit off. If I end up with nowhere to stay, my mom will never let me hear the end of it. She said from the beginning that it was foolish of me to apply to a university in a bigger city, that I'd never manage to get on fine on my own. I was so excited when I got accepted that I didn't read the entirety of the acceptance letter and now I might be homeless. I'll just have to go back to Twinleaf town and face the humiliation._

A sudden rush of determination surges through her as she wills away her thoughts. No, she won't give up that easily. She's capable of making it on her own, she _knows_ it. She just has to learn from her mistakes and stop being so scatterbrained. She can and _will_ be a responsible adult. Even if the effort kills her.

Looking at the situation objectively, Dawn guesses it isn't all that bad. Other than the fact that she'll be left out of the socializing arena that the dormitories provide, but that isn't fatal by a long shot. Since all the options she has are just a little out of her price range, she'll have to get a job right off the bat, but that is going to happen sooner or later anyway. Really, she might just pull this off.

Having to take the bus everyday is a definite con, but all apartment complexes within walking distance are already booked solid, so she'll just have to make do. She can either be an optimist or a pessimist about the situation and the latter doesn't sound like any fun, so she is just left to hope that _if_ she finds a place to stay, none of her new neighbors will be serial killers.

 _That_ would certainly give a nice finishing touch to her bad luck streak.

Dawn shields her eyes from the sun to be able to take in the whole building in front of her. _Not too shabby for Dawn_ _,_ she muses. She can live here no problem, yeah.

"This is the last apartment available," the landlord explains as he leads her down the hall. At his words the girl perks up and looks at him with reverence. He must be an angel sent from heaven to end her suffering. "The one right next to it was taken just earlier today actually. It's pretty much the same as every apartment on the floor, with the small disadvantage that the pipes of the building run right above it, but I hope that won't be too much of a problem."

"No, not at all," Dawn says politely, only listening with half an ear. Whatever peculiarities the apartment might have, it is still an indefinitely better option than living under a bridge for the next year. She takes a brief look around, eager to get this over with and to have good reason to not call herself homeless. "Everything looks good. I'll take it."

The landlord beams up at her and she returns his smile, feeling relief wash over her. "Great! I'll go down and bring the forms."

His retreating footsteps echo in the distance as she takes a look around. She has to admit the place is pretty good. There is a spacious bedroom with wide windows that let in plenty of light, a decent-sized living room, a furnished kitchen and a nice bathroom. And it is the last one available? Maybe her luck is finally turning around.

A goofy grin spreads across her face as she twirls around her new home and thanks the gods above for their mercy.

"Shit."

Dawn pokes her head out in the hall curiously. A guy is standing in front of the door just next to hers and glaring at it. She watches him for a few seconds, fascinated by how unwavering his angry stare at the inanimate object is. He seems to sense her shameless staring, because he suddenly whips his head towards her and she finds herself pinned under his hard gaze.

"Um, hello?" She greets uncertainly. This guy makes her nervous for whatever reason. He's a little scary, she decides. "Do you, uh, need help?"

"No."

"…ah." Dawn shifts her weight back and forth uncomfortably. First embarrassing neighbor encounter? Check.

A minute of awkward silence passes and then suddenly, "Who are you?"

She's taken a bit off guard by the bluntness of his question, but dares to give him a small smile. "Uh, my name is Dawn. I came by to look at this apartment."

"Hn." He seems to consider her with narrowed grey eyes for a moment, before replying. "Paul."

"Are you the person who just moved in?"

"Yes."

"And you got locked out?"

He sends her a chilly glare and she can't help but giggle under his intense stare. His glares may be a little scary, but she finds them a bit funny, too. He probably thinks he is more intimidating than he actually is. "The landlord will be back in a minute, he'll help you out."

"Hn. Are you moving in too?"

"Yep. I'm just waiting to sign the forms and I'll probably move my stuff in tonight."

Paul just nods and leans on the wall in obvious impatience, clearly unentertained by the small talk. He isn't the friendly type, that much she can plainly see, but if they are going to be neighbors, she might as well be civil.

Dawn studies him curiously for a few more seconds. Is that purple hair color natural? Is he wearing black contact lenses to make his eyes so dark? What are the chances of him being a serial killer?

"Ah, Paul! I see you've already had the pleasure of meeting our latest resident!" The landlord exclaims as he practically prances down the hallway towards them. "Fantastic! I'm glad both of you have managed to make an acquaintance so soon after your arrival! I know you may feel as if you're left out of the social part of the university, but there! You two have found a friend in each other already!"

She shares a look with Paul, who mirrors her skepticism. Yeah, the two of them becoming friends isn't likely to happen anytime soon.

"Okay then. Dawn, here are the forms you need to sign and a key to your apartment."

"Excuse me. Do you happen to have a key to my apartment as well?"

Dawn has to hide the mocking smile on her face with the forms the landlord has just handed her. She looks up to see Paul narrow his eyes angrily at her. Her smile unwittingly widens.

"Oh, dear boy. Did you get locked out already?"

She tries to focus her attention on the fine print in order not to burst out laughing. Now that she's found a place to stay it's surprisingly easy to find other people's misfortunes funny. She really is childish.

"Here. But be more careful in the future, alright?"

"Of course," He replies coldly. "Thank you."

"Here," Dawn hands the forms back to the landlord after she quickly looks them over and signs.

"Fantastic! You can move in whenever, Dawn. Here, take this – it's a schedule of the buses that pass nearby, as I imagine you'd need some kind of transport to get by."

"Oh, thank you, that will certainly come in handy."

"If you have any problem, don't hesitate to call."

She nods with a smile and shoots a sideways glance towards her new neighbor, but he's already disappeared inside his apartment without a word of goodbye.

* * *

It has been a long, agonizing day.

Dawn can't remember why she thought she can move in all her stuff tonight with time to spare. It seems like yet another one of her stupid miscalculations. Maybe her mother is right to think that she isn't responsible enough to be living on her own.

Still, finding this apartment remains a fantastic feat (she will be sure to proudly inform her mother of this in the morning, probably glossing over her current moving-in struggles).

She deposits yet another box of belongings in the living room, sighs tiredly and goes downstairs once again. The only thing left is the TV, but moving it up the flight of stairs is easier said than done – it's enormous and old-fashioned and she can easily snap beneath its monstrous weight.

Dawn briefly contemplates asking her grumpy neighbor to help her out, as he seems more than capable of carrying her TV, but quickly discards the thought. She feels kind of bad for laughing at him earlier and isn't too thrilled to be on the receiving end of his glares twice in one day.

She decides to suck it up and carry the TV herself. Half an hour later, she is panting with exhaustion as she struggles up the stairs. Just five steps before reaching the top, she decides to take a break and sets her load on the ground, wiping the sweat that has formed on her forehead.

Her physical strength is really not at its best, considering the fact that her apartment is on the first floor.

"I would consider getting a gym membership if I were you."

Startled by the sudden comment, Dawn whips her head up and finds her purple-haired neighbor leaning on his doorframe with a snide smirk on his face. He seems to enjoy the sight of her exhaustion and she wonders if this is payback for her gloating earlier.

Her eyes narrow into slits as she pins him under irritated blue eyes. All of her energy is spent and she has little patience for mocking remarks, and even more so from strangers. "Remember when I asked for your opinion? Yeah, me neither."

Paul shrugs with indifference, infuriating smirk still in place, and Dawn suddenly feels compelled to throw her TV at his stupid, handsome face. She bitterly realizes that goes well beyond her physical abilities and scowls at the enormous object, as if her incapacity is somehow its fault. She is at her strength's end and Paul seems to notice it as well, because he hasn't moved to go inside his apartment and is instead just standing there, watching her with undisguised amusement.

He is expecting her to ask him for help, she realizes and almost huffs indignantly. If he won't offer to help her out, then fine, so be it. She won't give him the satisfaction of begging. She can never adequately admit when she is incapable of doing something on her own and her stubbornness knows no limits.

Dawn doesn't care if her back hurts or if she looks like an idiot. She will _not_ ask for help. Especially not from this guy. It's a shame that his good looks are wasted on such a rancid personality, she muses as she braces herself for another round with her TV.

She bends and picks it up once again with considerable effort, struggling to go up the remaining stairs. "Chivalry really is dead," she mutters under her breath and ignores the fact that Paul is still staring at her.

She hears a reluctant sigh (an overdramatic one, if she may add) and a second later he's standing in front of her. "Need a hand?" he drawls, clearly annoyed. What he has found to be annoyed with, she has no idea.

"No shit," she replies gruffly and lets him take the load from her hands. He glances at her with distaste, undoubtedly appalled by her lack of manners, but holds his tongue as he carries the TV to her door with maddening ease. He even has the audacity to look irritated as he waits for her to open the door.

 _Wow, how inconvenienced he must be, doing manly lifting shit for a girl half his size. Poor bastard. Didn't even break a sweat._

"Would you hurry up?" Paul asks impatiently. She rolls her eyes at him and reaches for the door.

Only to find it locked. She stares at it with wide eyes for a second, vaguely remembering that she left the key inside for whatever reason on her last trip up.

"Great," she mutters in irritation. This night is just getting better and better.

A moment later, Dawn hears the mocking snicker of her neighbor. She grits her teeth.

Karma really is a bitch.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi everybody! This is the new jawn I'll be writing in my free time for fun. I won't restrict myself to a fixed length of chapters, I'll just let it flow as it comes. Hope you like it! Have a great day!

xoxo ella


	2. typical male ignorance

It is very late when Dawn rings the landlord's doorbell.

He answers a minute later with a sleepy yawn and she blushes to the roots of her hair when she tells him that she has managed to get locked out of her apartment within two hours of moving in. He shakes his head, but an amused chuckle escapes him and she swallows her embarrassment and smiles in turn.

When they make their way towards her door she rolls her eyes as she sees that Paul isn't there. He's offhandedly left her TV on the floor and long since gone inside his place. Dawn can make out the muffled sounds of a sports game from his apartment. _Typical guy._

After she's thanked the landlord for his help and bid him goodnight, it's time to unpack her things. She's tired beyond belief, but at the same time, she's eager to make this place feel her own as soon as possible. She puts on some music, boy bands that remind her of the carefree high school days, and gets started.

The apartment is coming along nicely. It is homey and comfortable, without any ornate decorations. She arranges her closet with care and stocks the shoe cabinet with the thousand pairs of shoes she's brought. Then, she decorates the walls of her bedroom until they shine with personality. Posters of old movies, pictures of her with her friends back in Twinleaf, her favorite books in neat stacks on shelves.

Dawn glances around when she's finally done and feels a little proud. It isn't much, but it's _hers_ and she's earned it. She knows moving in a strange new city is scary, but the bits and pieces she's brought with her bring her comfort and make the small space feel like home. It is where she'll make new friends and memories, and she loves it, down to the last handpicked detail.

She sings along to one of her favorite songs as she unrolls a colorful plush rug on the floor of her living room, when she is startled by a loud bang. She looks around in alarm.

Another distinct bang resounds from the other side of the wall. She giggles as she realizes that it's her neighbor who's making the noise, undoubtedly annoyed by the loud music blasting from her apartment.

Dawn gets up from the floor and hits the wall with her fist in response. After that, she promptly turns up the volume of the song and blatantly ignores Paul's protests for the rest of the night.

Maybe living in close proximity with Mr. Grouchy Pants as her neighbor will make life interesting. And Dawn _insists_ on an interesting life.

* * *

In the morning, Dawn heads down to campus to schedule her classes. The trip on the bus is bearable, though she would have preferred walking if it wasn't so far away.

After that, she purchases all of her required textbooks from the campus bookstore at prices that are simply _outrageous_ and more than ever feels the urgency of finding a job.

As she goes back, she ponders how unfair it is that her scholarship covers her tuition fee, but she still has to pay for things like books and rent. It gets hot outside by the time she stalks inside the apartment building, laden down with the heavy load. As much as she'd love to take an afternoon nap in her new bed, she forces herself to go out in the scorching heat once again. There's still the matter of her money running out, slowly, but surely, and she sets out on a mission to get herself a job by the end of the day.

Dawn makes her way through the streets of Jubilife city and comes to the conclusion that she lives in a good neighborhood, as far as she can tell. It's not as flashy as the places in Center City, but it's still nice, complete with quaint cafés and vintage shops. Without realizing, Dawn fritters away time window shopping and ogling pretty clothes (she even buys a few pieces that she simply _can't_ pass up) and before she knows it, the sun is low in the sky, gradually disappearing below the horizon in beautiful shades of red and purple.

Realizing she's wasted the whole day in mindless browsing around, Dawn straightens and sets her jaw with determination. She won't go home until she's found a job and that's that. She is sorely lacking when it comes to self-discipline, but as college is starting maybe it's high time that changes.

As luck has it, her job hunt doesn't last long. She passes by a restaurant that has a Now Hiring sign posted outside and decides to check it out.

It takes a total of ten minutes before she is hired as the new waitress at Brock's 24-Hour Diner. The guy who interviews her is a bit more flirtatious than she'd normally tolerate, but she is sold when he tells her they can work out her schedule around her classes. What's more, the diner's only three blocks away from her place, so it's as close to perfect as it can get.

She starts in a week and she is excited; in the span of two days she's found herself both a kickass apartment and a way to sustain herself financially. Things really are looking up on the 'responsible adult' front.

There's a bounce in her step as she heads back home, before her stomach suddenly growls; she hasn't even noticed how hungry she is until now. Dawn spots a market right across the street from her building and steps inside, pondering what to get.

As she browses the aisles, her resolution to eat healthy slowly withers away when her eyes sweep over cheap savory junk food that she can make in under half an hour.

 _This must be the curse of the college student_ , Dawn muses as she picks up frozen yogurt and a whole crate of energy drinks for the semester to come. It never hurts to be prepared, as her mother always says. Suddenly, a strong craving for waffle fries hits her and she wheels her cart back and forth in search of the familiar packaging. She already imagines the crispy, salty taste she'll enjoy while sprawled on her couch and her mouth drools.

When she finally spots it, her face falls when she sees there's only one box left on the shelf. She gasps in horror as she notices a hand reaching for it. She outright _snarls_ when she sees who aforementioned hand belongs to.

" _You_!" she yells in accusation. A purple head snaps in her direction, seemingly alarmed, and dark eyes widen in surprise when they see her charging towards him with her cart in full force.

"Are you _crazy_?" Paul shouts as he stretches out his arms to meet her attack. He grips her cart with his hands and it comes to a stop before it has the chance to hit him. "What the hell, woman?"

"You and I are going to have serious problems living in the same building, it seems," she bits out, her eyes glued on the box in his hands.

Oblivious to the object of her desire, he narrows his eyes at her. "We are, if you keep yelling at me for no apparent reason. I've been told not to judge people too quickly, but on the second day of our acquaintance I can already say that you're certifiably insane."

"Oh, I don't care what you say. In order to insult me, I must first value your opinion," Dawn retaliates. Her eyebrow twitches as his hand mechanically moves to put the box in his cart. "Relinquish the waffle fries," she demands. She's hungry well beyond reason at this point.

"I- what?" He follows her line of gaze in bewilderment and blinks uncomprehendingly. " _This_ is why you lunged yourself at me?"

"I know you were here first and whatever, but I'm willing to fight you for them." Dawn isn't even kidding. She _will_ have those waffle fries, even if they come at the price of her dignity. "And if you refuse, I'm going to blast obnoxious girly music all night long."

Paul stares at her for a few seconds at a loss for words. And when he finally speaks, he does the unspeakable. "Must be that time of the month, then."

Dawn's blood _boils._ "Excuse me?!"

Paul rolls his eyes at her. "Excuse _me_ for trying to think of a logical reason why you are acting like a madwoman. Maybe I'm wrong and it's just the way you are. Whatever." He sighs and puts the box of waffle fries in her cart. "Here. Now you can go stuff your face in peace."

Dawn gapes at him, the success of having won over the waffle fries fading away as she registers what he's just said to her. "Are you calling me _fat_?"

He's already walking away from her and towards the cash register. "Please stop talking. You're being loud," he says with his back to her and misses the murderous glare she's giving him.

 _Oh, I will END you for that, you smarmy rat bastard!_ Dawn seethes as she watches him go, but wills herself to calm down.

 _Whatever. Revenge is a dish best served cold and I WILL have my revenge. I'll lull him into a false sense of security and then BAM! He won't even know what hit him._

* * *

Later on in the night, as Dawn munches on her favorite unhealthy snack with vigor, she recalls Paul's lewd comment about her being on her period. She scoffs contemptuously.

How _typical_ of a man to be so ignorant when it comes to understanding the inner workings of a woman. How arrogant of the male gender to degrade the delicate complexity of females and their bodies. How condescending of them to attribute everything to hormones and blood-shedding egg cells and-

In the middle of her mental tirade about men and their inborn ignorance, she suddenly feels a peculiar pain tug at her lower belly. A decidedly _feminine_ kind of pain.

 _Oh, for the love of God._ She trudges her feet to the bathroom in mortification. _Why must you admit me to the stereotype in such a humiliating way,_ she scolds her body and silently curses Paul's accurate assumption to high hell and back.

Whatever. This doesn't mean that she's less mad at him for what he's said. He had no right.

But maybe… Maybe it wasn't _totally okay_ of her to attack him like that out of the blue. After all, he _did_ let her have the last box of her favorite snack.

Dawn sighs in irritation as she goes back to the living room, guilt nagging at the back of her mind. She regards the half-empty box of waffle fries with a look of contemplation and sighs again. _Damn you, conscience.  
_  
After a brief battle with her pride, she quietly makes her way out in the hall on her tip-toes. She places the box on the doorstep of her neighbor, rings the doorbell and goes back inside her apartment as quickly as possible.

A second later she hears his door flinging open, but no other sound to indicate his reaction. She wonders if he deems her even crazier now. Well, at least she'll fall asleep with a clear conscience tonight.

Dawn thinks they may be at a sort of truce for now. Somewhere in the distant future, they may be able to coexist in the same building peacefully.

Until she inevitably murders him, of course.

Because you don't imply, suggest or hint in _any_ way that a girl is fat without a sincere death wish. Killing him for that is still on the agenda.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey guys, it's me again! A big thank you to all those who reviewed! You're awesome. Btw, if anyone has any prompts or suggestions for comical situations they'd like to see in this story, I encourage you to tell me in the reviews! I'm pretty much making this up as I go, so feel free to lend me some imagination. Have a great day!

xoxo Ella :)


	3. revenge is best served loud

Dawn's first day of college finally arrives.

If she thought before that her courses would start slow and gradually ease her into the new unknown rhythm of higher education, she knows now that was nothing short of wishful thinking. She is thrown in at the deep end right off the bat and she scrambles to get her shit together in order not to fall behind at the very beginning. Contrary to her expectations, her first week in university is anything but painless.

She can be very organized when she wants to be, so it's all a matter of building a habit. She works out a schedule for herself and makes an effort to stick to it: wake up early, meditate, make a plan for the day over coffee, study if she has the time before her lectures, attend said lectures, study in the library, go home, cook dinner and study some more.

After a few days of that newly established dynamic, she definitely feels more confident in her ability to endure university life. As she gets used to spending the better part of the day poring over her textbooks, she hopes that she'll be able to juggle both schoolwork and her job once it starts.

At this point, social life seems unlikely to become a part of the picture. It's barely a small speck in the distance for a number of different reasons.

Free time, for starters, is a luxury that she can afford less and less as her studies quickly pile up. Then there's the matter of her having no actual friends in this strange new city and having no time to deliberately go out of her way to make any.

Renting an apartment away from campus also plays a role, though she can't say she's complaining too much about that. The dorms on campus are notorious for incessant partying and incredible noise disturbances. Not that Dawn is typically one to turn down a party, but having peace and quiet around is infinitely valuable when she's studying.

Of course, peace and quiet are very relative terms in her apartment building.

Paul and Dawn seem to have settled on a routine for their nonverbal dispute, in which they occasionally fight over their respective loudness via the wall their apartments share. She bangs her fist at the wall and shouts at him when he's turned up the volume of a sports game way too much, and he returns the favor when she overindulges in her singing late at night.

It is on one of those occasions when Dawn finds out she isn't too keen on people criticizing her artistic abilities.

 _"Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah. Ooh, you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life_." It's a peaceful night spent in the company of ABBA and the book she has to read for British Lit. Moving ludicrously to the music, Dawn jives to the kitchen to check on the pizza she is reheating in the microwave.

"Ah, college has made me such a good cook," she muses as she hums happily at the smell of crispy crust. _"Ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen."_

Suddenly, she hears banging on her door and goes to answer it, somewhat puzzled. Her neighbor usually uses the wall for communication, so this occurrence could be interpreted as a cause for worry. She lifts one of her huge earphones above her ear as she comes face to face with Paul, who looks positively furious.

"Uh hey, Paul. What's up?" she asks breezily, which seems to aggravate him even further. Dawn takes a step back instinctively as she notices a vein pop on his forehead. He has dark circles under his eyes and it seems as though he hasn't been getting enough sleep.

"What's up you ask," he starts with a dangerous voice, shaking slightly with barely contained anger. "What is _up_ is that it's _midnight_ and I'm studying. And here you are," he seems to struggle to keep his voice even, "blasting ABBA songs like there's no tomorrow."

Dawn immediately takes a defensive stance, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "The fuck is wrong with you, dickhead, I have my headphones on. You can't _possibly_ hear the music through the walls." Having had a lot on her plate herself these past few days, she's decided to keep the noise to a minimum tonight; she thinks she has been quiteconsiderate towards her ungrateful asshole neighbor, really. Which is obviously more than he deserves.

"No." Paul's patience is visibly wearing thin. "But I can hear you… _singing_." The word 'singing' rolls off his tongue tinged with something akin to mockery, which doesn't go unnoticed by Dawn.

She narrows her eyes warningly, daring him to continue. "Yes, and?"

Paul seems unfazed by the dangerous gleam in her glare. Or maybe he is just stupid, because what he says next cements the death penalty Dawn's long since sentenced him to. "And hasn't anyone ever told you that you sound like a dying seagull?"

Dawn _fumes_. Maybe, just _maybe_ , if he had used another dying animal for comparison, he would have gone unscathed for his remark. But if there is one creature she hates wholly and unconditionally purely for the screeching sound it emits, it's the seagull.

And comparing _her_ to one of those demonseeds dispatched from hell to make all beings capable of hearing bleed from their ears? A crime punishable by death in her book.

"Honestly, listening to you is like listening to nails on a chalkboard." Paul goes on sputtering nasty drivel, blind to the fact that she is _this_ close to punching him in the face. He's lost the usual apathetic quality to his voice and it's visible that the beginning of college is greatly affecting his stress levels.

It's not like Dawn knows him very well, but even she can tell that for him to be so wordy he must really be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He goes on and on. "Believe me, if I could dig my nails into your throat and pull out your vocal cords, I would. And it would be a favor to the building and to humankind and-"

She's had enough of this abuse. She will take no more. Stressed or not, he's crossed a line. It would have only taken a tiny bit of neighborly tact, a simple "please, will you keep it down, thank you very much, goodnight." But no, he _has_ to be a douchebag about it. Well, to hell with that.

She erupts like a volcano with all the might of a woman whose pride has been severely wounded. "WELL YOU KNOW WHAT, FUCK YOU ASSHOLE, I'M GOING TO SING ALL NIGHT LONG. If my singing is too awful for your personal taste, then why don't you go find yourself a nice, rusty railroad spike and suck it fucking DRY FOR ALL I CARE." With that, she shuts the door in his face. She probably would have been inclined to listen to reason had he been a bit less vile in his insults, but demonstrating any consideration whatsoever for the peace of her neighbor is non-negotiable now.

She sings at the top of her lungs until her throat burns just for the sake of spiting him.

She then goes to bed with a nasty feeling of self-satisfaction. _That_ ought to teach him a lesson.

At precisely 5 a.m. the following morning, Dawn is roughly awoken by the most terrible sound humankind has ever known.

Sleepy and disoriented, she stumbles towards the hall where the abominable noise is coming from. It's the sound of her fucking _nightmares_ – screeching seagulls, and thousands of them. What the actual fuck? She opens her door and looks around, her vision still blurry from sleep. There's no one out here.

She blinks to chase away the blurriness as something on the floor catches her eye. She bends to pick it up and winces at the volume of the sound it's emitting. It's a portable speaker that's been left at her doorstep for her to find. There's a post-it note on it that says _An actual record of you singing._

Dawn grits her teeth as she presses a button on it to silence the heinous object.

Forget peace and quiet. This means _war_.

* * *

She bumps into Paul unexpectedly at the cash register at an office supplies store that afternoon. She does a double take.

He's the cashier.

Dawn clenches her jaw and sends him a dirty glare as he works the counter and pointedly ignores her. "Your total is $4.97," he drones in a monotone voice as he hands her the pack of highlighters she's purchased.

Her hands itch to grab him by the throat and strangle him, but she struggles to restrict herself to verbal abuse only. The feud between them hasn't progressed to the point where she's willing to be hauled away by security for physical assault.

"You know, that's not what an apology sounds like," she bits out with hostilityas she shoves the highlighters inside her bag with unnecessary force.

Paul smirks at her haughtily. "You're holding up the queue."

She storms out of the store, hissing mad and plotting all sorts of revenge. A distant screech of a seagull echoes at the back of her mind and demands for justice.

* * *

Dawn is riding the bus on her way home from classes when she sees an opportunity to exact her retribution on her purple-haired foe.

He is sitting at the front of the bus, slightly slouched in his seat. His head is bobbing back and forth slightly and from what she can see he has his arms crossed across his chest.

She's willing to bet money that he's sleeping. A wicked plan forms in her head and her lip curls upwards as she takes out her earplugs from her bag. She plugs them in her phone and waits till the seat next to Paul is free.

When it finally is, she moves to the front of the bus with unnecessary stealth, what with how loud the vehicle's rumbling. It's almost unbelievable that Paul's managed to fall asleep in these surroundings. Thinking back to how tired and stressed he looked last night, she muses that he really must be working himself into the ground.

Dawn bites her lip indecisively as she quietly sits down next to him, careful not to disturb him. Her caution is ironic, really, considering what she's about to do.

Though… he looks so peaceful when he's sleeping. She feels guilt prickle at her. Why is she suddenly growing a conscience? Why is it because of _him_ of all people when he deserves no mercy after the stunt he pulled?

 _Don't turn back now,_ she tries to talk herself out of the pity she's suddenly feeling for the boy next to her. Her new routine has her feeling tired all the time too, but not like _that_. She absently wonders what shifts he's working and if she will end up the same way once her job contract is in force.

 _Tough titty, neighbor_ , she thinks as she finally resolves to go through with her revenge. It's his own fault that he chose seagulls.

Dawn carefully plugs one earphone in his ear, but he's sleeping so soundly that he doesn't even stir. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breaths, she would have guessed he was dead.

Then she opens one of her playlists and chooses a song that's sure to piss him off, setting the music to maximum volume. Her finger hovers above the screen for a second as she hesitates.

And then she presses play.

' _MY MILKSHAKE BRINGS ALL THE BOYS TO THE YARD,  
AND THEY'RE LIKE  
IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS,  
DAMN RIGHT,  
IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS,  
I CAN TEACH YOU,  
BUT I HAVE TO CHARGE'_

Dawn feels him stiffen and he snaps his head up as he wakes up with a start.

She allows herself three seconds to marvel at his stunned expression, just enough for him to see her face, before the bus comes to a stop and she flees.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi! I'm going on vacation for a week and I'll have no access to a laptop, so this is the update for now. Thankyouthankyouthankyou to the reviewers, you're amazing and you make writing this so much fun that I want to be doing it non-stop. Special thanks to DawnForever101 for her suggestions, they're hilarious and will most likely be included! That's all from me for now, see you next time!

xoxo Ella


	4. simply to dine for

Dawn suspected that her job would be no walk in the park, especially in the beginning. But this? This far and away exceeds her expectations.

It appears that Brock's 24-Hour Diner is a real local hotspot. Makes sense since the area is practically swarming with college students. It's 8 p.m. and it's crazy busy.

It hasn't occurred to her that a good share of Jubilife University's students is living off-campus, like she is. Short-sighted as ever, she has failed to notice that the whole neighborhood consists mostly of people her age who were apparently stuck in the same predicament as her - unable to find an available dorm closer to the college facilities.

It's just her luck that out of all the freshmen living in this part of town, she happens to be stuck with Paul as her next-door neighbor.

She fusses around, taking orders and running meals to tables, barely managing to catch her breath. It's barely her first day and she's already having doubts whether or not she'll be able to keep this up throughout the year. If every day of the week is as busy and energy-draining as tonight, she might as well quit while she's ahead and find herself a less exhausting job to pay her rent. She knows that when she goes home later she'll fall asleep before she's even opened her textbook.

She grits her teeth as she struggles to balance a stack of plates in her hands. No, she won't give up that easily. She's a hardworking girl by nature and she won't let herself be bested yet. She needs this job and if she has to smile to asshole customers who don't deserve it to pay the bills, then so be it.

On the plus side, the diner's shown her that while she may have to waste time riding the bus to campus every day, she isn't necessarily left out of the student socializing area. She's already spotted a few people she recognizes from her classes. Granted, a few of them that she's had to serve have already proved to be the type of douchebags that she has little patience for, but thankfully they are a minority.

She's made a new acquaintance today and of that she is especially proud.

One of the other waitresses, May, is a freshman who also happens to be in her Psychology class. The two get to talking and hit it off immediately. Dawn is delighted to hear that the chestnut-haired girl also lives nearby.

She may not have to spend all year friendless, after all.

"So, what do you think of Brock?" May asks as the two hustle inside the kitchen to get a breather from the crowded restaurant.

"Well, when he interviewed me, he came on a little too strong. But when he saw that he wasn't my type, he kind of mellowed out and we had a nice chat. I'm very grateful to him for fitting the hours around my schedule, really."

"Yeah, same here. Balancing work and classes is pretty crazy, but we need the cash so we just have to suck it up." The two giggle. Work is a little more bearable when you have a friend around, even if it gets hectic in the busy hours.

"So, have you made any friends from around here yet?" Dawn asks, since May is from out of town like she is and the two are more or less stuck in the same situation.

"Eh, not really." The brunette shrugs. "Except for this really annoying guy I seem to bump into everywhere I go. Which is weird, since he lives all the way down in the dorms on campus. But I wouldn't call us friends, anyway. I think you might be my first friend here." May elbows her lightly with a teasing smile and Dawn grins in response.

Yeah, work is definitely better with a friend around.

"Back to work, girls. Chit-chat later," Brock shouts from where he's working his magic on the stove and they hurry out of the kitchen.

"If he had to wear this short excuse of a uniform, he wouldn't be too eager to go back there either," May whines as she tugs her black skirt down in a vain attempt to cover more of her legs. Dawn agrees that the work attire Brock's chosen for his waitresses isn't very appropriate, but once more reminds both May and herself that they _really_ need the money.

"Well, at least people leave tips," she jokes.

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"Over there. That's the guy I told you about, the one with the green hair. Why is he _everywhere_? Do you think he's following me?"

"Uh, maybe he has friends in this part of town?" Dawn offers with a meek smile. "I'll handle his table if you don't want to."

"Thanks," May mutters as she hides her face behind her tray and stalks to a table in the other end of the stuffy diner. Dawn plasters a practiced smile on her face as she heads towards the green-haired guy's table.

He's sitting with two other guys, none of whom are familiar to her. One of them is nervously tapping his fingers on the table, probably impatient to place his order and get his food, while the other is leaning back in the booth and looking around the restaurant in interest.

Upon noticing her, the latter gives her a lascivious smile and winks at her suggestively. She fights an eye-roll as she takes out her notepad to write down their orders.

"What can I get for you?" She struggles to keep some sweetness to her tone, even though the way the guy with the messy auburn hair is looking at her, as if sizing her up, makes her more than a little uncomfortable. Damn your choice of uniforms, Brock.

"How about one burger with fries and your number?" He says smoothly, but Dawn is really in no mood. Surprisingly enough, his guy friends don't laugh or cheer him on, but merely roll their eyes, as if they're used to it. He must be the flirt of the group then.

"Cut it out, Gary," May's green-haired acquaintance speaks up before Dawn has the chance to turn him down. "I apologize for my friend's imbecility. I'll have the hot wings, please."

Dawn nods in appreciation and turns towards the last boy of the group. He takes a deep breath and blurts out his order so fast that she has a hard time writing down the entirety of it. "I'll have a double cheeseburger with extra fries, the chicken pot pie with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy and some onion rings."

"Will that be all?" She lifts her eyebrows at him teasingly.

"Oh, and one coke, please," he adds with a grin and turns towards his friends. "You guys sure that's all you're getting to eat? Because if you end up hungry, I'm not sharing."

"We're sure, Ashy-boy," the guy called Gary replies with a smirk. _Ashy-boy_ turns back towards Dawn with a boyish smile. "Then that's all for now, thank- HEY, IS THAT PAUL?"

Dawn jumps with a start at his sudden exclamation. Her head does a one-eighty in the direction he's pointing towards. Sure enough, Paul's over by the counter, looking as irritated with life as ever. "You know that guy?" she asks before she can stop herself, curiosity taking over her.

"Hell yeah I do! We went to middle school together!" The raven-haired boy exclaims enthusiastically as he starts waving his arms above his head. "HEY, PAUL!"

With an annoyed roll of his eyes, Paul starts making his way over to their table. Dawn meets his gaze for a second and gulps nervously at the murderous glare he's giving her. She has masterfully avoided him since their last encounter on the bus, when she quite possibly damaged his hearing beyond repair. The middle of her shift really isn't a good time for her to get killed.

"I'll be right back with your food," she blurts out and quickly makes her way back to the kitchen.

"What happened?" May asks when she sees her a few minutes later.

"Nothing, they just ordered their food and called my archenemy to their table," Dawn says offhandedly as she tries to fit all of Ashy-boy's food on her tray.

"Who, Eggplant hair? He ordered a medium rare steak with a side of fries to go," May recites his order as if it's the most valuable piece of information for the situation at hand.

"Good for him," Dawn replies idly as she braces herself to go back to the table.

"Wait!" the other girl exclaims in a panicky voice as her sapphire blue eyes widen with realization. "If Eggplant's at Grasshead's table that means Grasshead's going to see me when I bring Eggplant's food."

Dawn opens her mouth to offer bringing Paul's food over too, since he's already seen her anyway, and spare her friend the discomfort, but Brock interrupts once again. "Girls, as sympathetic as I am to this whole melodrama, I don't pay you to stand around being pretty in the kitchen. Go be pretty where the customers can see you. Oh, and stop calling them names. It's bad for business."

The two groan simultaneously. "Solidarity, sister," May mutters as she pushes the door open for Dawn, who is laden down with too many plates.

"-still can't believe you're in Jubilife University, man! That's so awesome!" When they reach the table, the raven-haired boy is excitedly yapping to a not so enthusiastic Paul, who looks thoroughly pained at having to endure his old acquaintance's incessant blabbering.

"Medium rare steak with a side of fries to go," May announces as she places the takeout box in front of Paul, who's been squeezed in the booth next to Gary.

The boys' attention momentarily snaps to the two girls. Dawn masks the awkwardness she's feeling by starting to set the never-ending mass of plates on the table.

"Well, if it isn't April," Grasshead drawls out with a smirk as he turns towards them, fiddling with a napkin in his hands.

"Drew," May bites out stiffly in acknowledgement.

"It seems that we bump into each other at every turn. Funny, isn't it?" Drew says teasingly. Dawn feels May tense next to her but is too focused on emptying her tray to take a good look at her friend's face.

"Hilarious," the brunette hisses.

"Here. For you." Drew suddenly produces a rose he's made out of the paper napkin and hands it out for her to take. May takes an involuntary step backwards in surprise and lightly bumps into Dawn, who's in the process of unloading the last of Ashy-boy's food onto the table.

What happens next happens very quickly.

The impact makes Dawn lean slightly forward and like a domino the chicken pot pie mirrors her movement and threatens to slip out of the plate. Ashy-boy lets out a startled cry and instantly reacts like a mother eagle protecting her child from danger, reaching for the pie and preventing it from plopping down on the floor. For a nanosecond it seems like a crisis averted, until Ashy-boy's hand knocks the gravy boat out of the plate and sends it flying across the table.

The airborne gravy spills out and twirls in the air for a brief moment, before landing straight on Paul's shirt.

Dawn's eyes widen in horror as they take in the terrible stain. "Shit," she mutters as the rest of the table roars with laughter. Her gaze falls on Paul's face and at the glare he's giving her she scrambles to the kitchen and at the speed of light comes back with a stack of napkins.

"Sorry, man." Ash rubs the back of his head sheepishly, though he's grinning, his amusement overriding the tragedy of losing a part of his food.

"Dumb and clumsy. Quite the catch, aren't you?" Paul quips at Dawn, who struggles in vain to keep her mouth shut as she wipes away the gravy that's spilled on the table.

"Are you always this charming or is today a special occasion? It was an _accident_ , you ass," She hisses back in a low voice, wary of bystanders overhearing her talking back to a customer. It's her first day on the job and she's already eager to go home. Someone up there must _really_ have a target on her. "I'll get you more gravy," she grumbles in Ash's direction.

"I've got it," May says, shooting Dawn an apologetic look.

"Will you please bring a can of soda for my good friend Paul, too? It's on me." Ash smiles generously at his _good friend_ and May walks away to fulfil his request. "It really was an accident, man. If you really have to blame someone, blame me. Don't take it out on the pretty lady."

She smirks triumphantly as she pours Ash's coke in a glass. Not that he can't do it himself, but she's determined to at least do _something_ right on her first day as a waitress. Gary seizes the moment to give his luck another try and smiles at her winningly. "You know, you really are cute as hell."

"Which is accidentally where she came from," Paul adds as he proceeds to bitterly wipe his shirt in a futile attempt to lessen the damage.

"If anyone's to blame, it's clearly June here," Drew pipes up just in time for May to hear him as she comes back with a gravy boat in one hand and a can of soda in the other.

Dawn sees her face flush with anger at his remark, though if it's for placing the blame on her or getting her name wrong she can't tell. She interrupts before the whole exchange's become even more of a disaster. "All of you smartasses better shut up and eat your food before it goes cold. Paul, I'll come by your place after my shift to take your shirt so I can try to get the stain out. Happy? Great." She grabs May by the arm. "Let me know if you guys need anything else."

"You two know each other?" She hears Ash asking Paul, who mutters something in response that she can't quite catch. She enters the kitchen with an exasperated sigh, May following suit, and says nothing in answer to Brock's raised eyebrows.

"Sorry for bumping into you like that," the other girl apologized sheepishly.

"Nah, don't worry about it. Just gives Paul yet another reason to kill me," Dawn smirks teasingly at her friend. "Seriously, forget about it. I just wish for this shift to be over."

"Yeah, and I wish for a beautiful girl to finally look my way, but it seems that we're both out of luck," Brock teases as his head peeks through the kitchen window and grins at the two girls. "I'm sure that at least two tables are begging for your immediate attention, ladies, so back to work."

There is something very sadistic about her new employer, Dawn decides. It doesn't really matter though, now that she's practically signed her life over to him with her job contract.

She stalks back to the dining room to take her next table. Another group of guys. All of them smirking at her, with looks much more lewd and improper than Gary's were.

She struggles to summon a convincing amount of ass-kissing amiability in order to provide a half-decent customer service, silently counting the minutes till she'll be free to go home.

This is shaping up to be a very long, very annoying first day on the job.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey, y'all! Couldn't sleep at all tonight, so decided that 5 am was as good a time as any to type something up. So here you go! Credit goes to DawnForever101 for her 'Dawn spills something over Paul' prompt :) Hope you like how I interpreted it.

Thank you for reading my nonsense, leave me some love and keep being fabulous!

xoxo Ella :)


	5. peace is nothing but a pipe dream

Honestly, when the landlord told Dawn that the apartment she is renting is at a disadvantage because of the pipes that run above it, she didn't really pay the matter a second thought.

Who would even _think_ to shower in the middle of the night anyway? It is common knowledge amongst the tenants that the walls in the building are paper thin and the plumbing is neither modern nor quiet. Knowing that and knowing that her neighbors know it too, Dawn's never really had a reason to worry about it.

Surely no one would be that selfish as to keep her awake just because they felt like a nice wash was in order in the dead of night. _Surely_ no one is that terrible a neighbor. Right?

Wrong.

If she's never thought the pipe situation to be a problem before, she sure does now.

It's three a.m. and she finds herself stark awake and unable to fall back asleep. In five hours she has to take her very first test in college and it's a rather important one, which is why she has been studying for it the entire week.

She was sure to go to bed early so that she would be as fresh as a cucumber in the morning, something that she hasn't been ever since she's started working at the diner. She has done everything in her power in terms of preparation to make sure she won't fail.

Everything except anticipate that this particular plumbing detail which differentiates her apartment from the others on the floor would, quite literally, send all her hard work down the drain.

The pipes above her bedroom ceiling howl menacingly and Dawn shifts around in her bed, trying to drown the sound out by pressing her pillow over her head. Sighing in resignation, she switches on her bedside lamp and starts going over her notes for what feels like the millionth time. She figures the showering asshole will be done in twenty minutes tops and then she'll have a chance to go back to sleep.

Half an hour passes and no such luck. Did the asshole drown or something? Who the hell showers for over fifty minutes (and counting) this late? Dawn's eye twitches in sleep-deprived annoyance and she decides that she can't take another second of this torture. She gets out of bed, determined to find out who is interfering with her sleeping schedule so carelessly. Time to serve some justice.

She sets out, her fluffy slippers on her feet, fully intending to scout the whole floor for the inconsiderate culprit if she has to, but halfway across her living room she stops dead in her tracks. Here the sound of running water can be heard faintly, but audibly. Dawn climbs on the couch and puts her ear to the wall, scrunching her eyebrows in concentration. It's definitely coming from the other side _._

 _I should have known right away,_ she thinks angrily, murder on her mind. _I fucking paid to have the bastard's shirt dry-cleaned and he does this?_

She bangs her fist against the wall and yells at the top of her lungs, "GET OUT OF THE SHOWER, YOU BASTARD!" No response comes and she hits the wall even harder. "DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DON'T HEAR ME! COWARD!"

As the water continues running imperturbably, two distinct bangs come from the other side. Meaning, _I hear you and I'm not about to do anything._ She feels her blood boil with seething anger at this open mockery.

The walls in this building are thin. And Dawn's patience for assholes is even thinner.

In an instant, she's at Paul's door, banging on it in a fit of pure rage. Another door down the hall opens and a sleepy neighbor pokes his head out, checking what all the ruckus is about. Dawn pays him no heed as she starts kicking the door in addition to her merciless punches.

It abruptly flies open to reveal an alarmed looking Paul, purple hair wet and towel draped low on his hips. He has the audacity to look irritated that he has been pulled out of an apparently exceptionally nice shower.

"Why the hell are you at my door at three thirty in the morning?"

Dawn's nostrils flare as she pins him under a menacing glare. "Oh, so you _are_ aware what time it is? Good. This may come as a surprise to you, but at this hour some of us are trying to sleep!"

"Damn right we are!" the neighbor from down the hall pipes up grumpily. "Stop making so much noise and go to bed, silly girl."

Dawn sends him an incredulous look. "Hey, mister! How about you keep your nose out of other people's business, huh? This guy here is the real culprit, not me!"

"Young lady," the man begins threateningly, the pompom of his sleeping cap swinging back and forth as he trembles with fury. Who even _wears sleeping caps_ anymore? "If you don't lower your voice, I'll find myself obligated to report you to the landlord and have you kicked out of the building!"

Her jaw drops at the open threat. She takes a deep breath, preparing for another rant, but Paul intervenes before she has the chance to lash out again. "She will shut up, sir. I apologize for all the noise."

Dawn looks at him, clearly disagreeing, and opens her mouth to argue, but before she can get another word in, he grabs her by the arm, bids the neighbor goodnight and tugs her inside his apartment, slamming the door shut.

"What the fuck," she blurts out, glaring at him furiously in the darkness, the only light seeping in from a door down the hall.

"What the fuck yourself." He glares right back, as if he has any right to. As if he doesn't know exactly what crimes he is committing against her desperate need for sleep. "What's gotten your knickers in a twist this time?"

Oh, he is practically asking to get his ass kicked. "Are you being for real right now? I can't sleep because of you!"

Paul blinks at her in stupor for a few seconds, confusion clear on his face. "Um… well, as flattering as that is, I still don't think it's a good enough reason to kick down my door in the middle of the night."

"You really are stupid as hell," she hisses. "I have a test in four and a half hours and here you are, showering like running water will disappear from the face of the earth tomorrow. You do know that the pipes of the building run right above my bedroom, right?"

Paul blinks again. "I… I'm afraid I didn't know that."

Dawn feels her temper rise. "Then what do you think I'm doing banging on the wall and shouting at this hour?"

At this he reaches and rubs the back of his head in something akin to embarrassment. Dawn tries not to let the display of tanned skin and ripping muscle distract her from her anger. "Being crazy as usual? I don't know, I thought it was a part of this… prank war we've been having, or whatever it is."

 _I'll give you a prank war_ , she thinks darkly and looks around the dimly lit apartment with an indignant huff. His place is a mirror version of hers. She immediately notices clouds, _clouds_ of steam rolling from underneath his bathroom door, where the light is coming from. The clear indication that he was having the time of his life in the shower while she was struggling to drown out the noise makes steam come out of her ears as well.

"How rude of me to interrupt your shower," she remarks nastily, her fury now redirected towards another aspect in which the universe has been totally unfair to her. Living in a fair-sized apartment complex like theirs with a decent amount of other boarders means that hot water is a truly precious commodity. Having to share with so many people, you are lucky if your shower doesn't ice over halfway through.

Dawn is yet to experience a decent shower, where the water stays hot for more than ten minutes. Paul, on the other hand, doesn't seem to have had that problem.

She knows it's irrational to be angry with him over that of all things. It isn't really his fault that he's lucked into the apartment with the shower that actually works. Nor is it his fault that she's drawn the short straw concerning the pipes' unfortunate location.

And yet, the irrationality of her anger doesn't keep her from being furious with him. The fact that she has barely slept and is stressing her skin off because of the test tomorrow doesn't help either.

"The injustice of it all," she's blabbering to herself as her body moves on its own accord towards his bathroom. "I study my ass off, work my ass off, spend a month's worth of tips on your pricey dry-cleaning, and for what? At the end of the day you get all the hot water and I get all the fucking noise. And _god_ , does that noise make me violent."

Paul is looking at her in bewilderment, undoubtedly thinking she's having a mental episode. His eyes follow her warily as she sticks her head inside the steamy bathroom. "Yep, looks the same way as mine, only it's hot and nice and swarming with idiotic Paul germs." She steps inside, squinting through the hot steam left in the wake of the water, and reaches to turn the tap on. "Just as I thought," she snarls as the water runs over her hand, warm enough to redden it in seconds. "You soak in all the hot water in Jubilife, while _I_ have to endure the cold-ass-YELP!"

Dawn slips and falls on the wet floor with a loud _thud_ and an uncontrolled string of curses pouring from her mouth. "Motherfucking bitchass _FUCKER_ , that hurt!"

Paul pokes his head in the bathroom, amusement shining in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

She struggles to get up on the slippery floor, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity to her posture under his mocking stare. "The fact that I'm on the floor means nothing."

"And I suppose the fact that you're bleeding also means nothing?"

"Huh? Bleeding? Where?" She looks herself over frantically and notices a shallow cut on her palm and a razor that's fallen to the floor. She must have grabbed it in an attempt to steady herself on her way down. The cut isn't anything to worry about, but her ankle is another story. It's beginning to bruise and swell horribly. "Well, shit."

"Sit still," Paul commands as he cautiously steps on the wet floor and bends down next to her. With one arm on her back and another under her knees he picks her up swiftly and carries her back to the living room.

In spite of the embarrassing position she's in, she's still mad at him and her ire is furtherly fueled by the never-ending string of bad luck the heavens have been continuously unleashing upon her. "Why the hell did you pick me up?" She demands, fishing for reasons to bicker and desperately trying to ignore the fact that she's pressed flush against his bare chest.

He spares her an annoyed look. "Because you couldn't get up on your own." She scowls up at him and he does the same. Her face flushes red at their close proximity and she struggles to remind herself of the disdain she holds for her unlikeable neighbor, but it does nothing to override the sudden attraction that courses through her. Where the hell did _that_ come from?

 _The pain, Dawn, concentrate on the pain._

She fidgets in his arms and his scowl deepens as he navigates around the furniture in the dimly lit room. "I'm sorry, would you have preferred to lie helplessly on the floor?"

Dawn glares up at him. "Maybe I _would_ have-!" _THUNK! "_ Ow!" _  
_  
She looks up at him, incredulous at the fact that he's just let her drop on her ass. Granted, he's dropped her on the couch and not on the floor, but it's still a less than chivalrous thing to do to a wounded damsel in distress. Even in the dark she can make out the contours of his smug smirk. "Stay here," he says and disappears from the room.

She obeys, not really sure if she'll be able to stand up on her own anyway, and sits there uncomfortably. Paul flicks the light switch as he comes back, now dressed in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms and carrying some stuff in his hands. Dawn squints at the bright light.

"Let me see your ankle," he says. She inches away from him and probes a touch at the swelling bruise, hissing in pain. Impatient, he bats her hand away and backs her up against the corner of the couch. "Don't move," he orders.

Dawn glares at him, but he ignores her as he lightly runs his fingers along her ankle. She fights back the blush that threatens to bloom on her face and pouts as she turns her head away from him. Talk about a ridiculous situation.

Suddenly, she feels something cold on her leg and winces involuntarily. "Don't move," Paul repeats. "Keep this on your ankle. It'll bring down the swelling."

She looks down, expecting to see an ice pack, and is instead met with a pack of frozen baby carrots. "Ew. Put it back. I'm not using that."

"Quit being an infant. Let me see your hand."

"No one asked you to baby me!"

"No one asked _you_ to come barging in the middle of the night and make a corpse out of yourself on my bathroom floor either. So shut up, keep the carrots on your ankle and give me your hand so I can clean the cut with some vodka."

This has to be the longest string of words Dawn's ever heard him say in one go and his wording is so absurd that for a moment she's rendered speechless. She stares at him in silence for a few long seconds and finally says, "I think I may need a drink to process how ridiculous this all is."

"Spoken like a true college student." Paul smirks. "Be right back."

He gets up to the kitchen and returns with two glasses and a clean piece of gauze. He pours a liberal amount of vodka in each and hands her one. "Cheers." He takes a swig and starts working on her hand. Dawn blinks at him as she sits there and tries to make sense of the ludicrous predicament she's gotten herself into.

She takes a sip of the alcohol and makes a face at the awful taste. It blurs the throbbing in her leg, though, so she sips again. "So, prank war, huh?" she starts conversationally. "I wasn't aware that's what we were at."

Paul shrugs as he finishes off tying the bandage around her hand and leans back with a sigh. "Gotta do something to keep life interesting. Though I have to warn you that if you keep raising hell at night, this innocent battle might just end in murder."

Dawn snorts and downs the remaining contents of her glass. "Excuse me, but tonight the noise was all _your_ fault. Now I can't sleep and I don't even know how I'm going to make it down to campus in the morning."

"That's what you get for all your singing. At least I don't belch out awful tunes in the shower."

She glares at him heatedly. "Don't even get me started. I swear to God, if I hear you showering at three a.m. ONE MORE TIME-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop being so loud, the neighbors are sleeping."

"Funny you should be concerned with _their_ peace and quiet." Dawn pauses and bites her lip contemplatively. "Maybe it's the vodka talking, but… well, thanks for the first aid. Even if it was done with frozen vegetables."

Paul gives a small nod. "Sure." He smirks teasingly. "I'll know to only expect a 'please' or a 'thank you' when you're drunk then."

"I'm not _drunk_ and I really don't have the energy to pretend you're funny. Although, whoever says alcohol isn't an appropriate coping mechanism is wrong." She examines the glass in her hands, now on her second refill. "It's working."

"We have the same coping mechanism for college, it seems," Paul jokes as he lifts his glass to his lips. Then he reaches for the TV remote and gets comfortable against the couch cushions. "Now, would you rather watch baseball or play Mario Kart?"

* * *

When she wakes up with a _teeny-tiny_ hangover the next morning, Dawn comes to realize three very important things.

First, she's fallen asleep on someone else's couch in someone else's apartment.

Second, said someone is lightly snoring beside her.

And third, her very first test in college began half an hour ago.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey there! Please, to all the people who favorite/alert, drop a review every once in a while. Reviews keep me going, yafeelme?

How'd I do?

Have a great day! :)

xoxo Ella


	6. provoked ducks and café psychopaths

It is a completely normal day, as long as you ignore the fact that it isn't.

It's probably the weirdest day Dawn's had up to date, and it's weird from start to fucking finish.

When she wakes up, hungover and disoriented, she's momentarily annoyed with herself and her stupidity. She sits up and rubs her eyes, her throbbing headache a vicious reminder that she's had a tad too much to drink last night.

Looking around, she finds Paul lying on the opposite end of the couch, still sleeping. Their legs have tangled together in the middle of the night and she blushes, carefully extricating hers from his.

 _Weirdweirdweird._ What fiendish alignment of the planets led to her falling asleep here, anyway?

She gets on her feet and an involuntary hiss of pain escapes her lips. Right. She hurt her ankle. Paul doctored her with a baby carrots compress, vodka and video games. She remembers now.

She also remembers the test she's missed and quickly fishes out her phone, drafting an email to her professor to excuse her absence. A touch of 'I almost fell to my death' and 'when is the make-up date, can I please do the test then, thank you very much'. She doesn't mention the alcohol involved, but her lecturer is probably familiar with the drunken collegiate life and the excuses that come with it. He'll probably think her a sloppy student now. Another worry to add to the pile of adult responsibilities on her mind.

Dawn spares her sleeping neighbor a glance and a wave of embarrassment washes over her. Speaking of worries. What is she supposed to do now?

Should she slip out unnoticed and never mention this again? Should she awkwardly linger around until Paul wakes up? Maybe make some pancakes to thank him for not leaving her in a crumpled pile on his bathroom floor?

She has no idea what the protocol is for a situation like this. It feels uncomfortably similar to a morning after a one-night stand (as far as she can tell from all the movies she's seen) and even though Dawn knows it's anything but, she can't help but overthink her next course of action.

The melodramatic part of her brain overrules the logical one and she fidgets in comical distress as she stands glued to the spot, desperately trying to keep her freak out silent.

"Mmph!"

Dawn whips her head toward Paul, startled, and finds him scowling in his sleep. "Stop provoking the ducks," he mutters in a semi-coherent slur and waves his index finger in front of his face in what she presumes is supposed to be a warning motion.

As jittery as she is, she can't help the quiet giggle that escapes her. Paul, for all his claims to be an intimidating individual, turns out to be quite the hilarious sleep-talker. She'll be sure to ask him about his dream later, if only to bask in his imminent discomfort.

She overcomes her dramatic dilemma and resolves to simply go brush her teeth in her own apartment, like any hygiene respecting Mary Sue would do in her situation, telling herself that she's being unnecessarily stupid over this inadvertent sleepover. She's almost reached the door when a sudden battle cry erupts behind her, followed by a loud _thud_ , and cuts her trip to clean teeth short.

All her previous panic over this awkward predicament evaporates as she's rewarded with the image of Paul lying face-down on the floor next to the couch. He grumbles something along the lines of "stupid wild birds" as he stands up, and it's all she can do to not burst out laughing.

His head snaps up and his eyes momentarily widen in alarm as he spots her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Yes, I'm terribly happy to see you too." She smirks, watching his expression slowly shift from confusion to comprehension as he seems to remember last night's events. She decides it's never too early to annoy him and tries to dissolve the tension with the first topic of conversation that springs to her mind. "So, _what_ did those darn ducks _do_?"

He glares at her, but it's hardly intimidating since his eyes are still half-closed from sleep. He looks rather endearing, really, despite his efforts to give himself a menacing air. "Don't mess with me. I'm not a morning person." He rubs his head with a muffled groan and Dawn guesses that he must be feeling the after-effects of the vodka too. "How's your ankle?" he adds in an afterthought.

"Oh." She looks down at it as if she's forgotten about the pain. "It hurts, but I don't think it's sprained. I'll live. Thanks for your help though. And… for the company." She hesitates. "You might not be as evil as I initially thought."

Paul almost smirks at her half-assed compliment. "Hn. As obnoxious as you are, you're not half-bad at Mario Kart." He pauses as he seems to consider her for a moment. "You hungry?"

Dawn's appropriately shocked that he not only just said something remotely nice about her, but that he also might be asking her to get breakfast together. She quickly masks her surprise with a goofy smile. "Yeah. Pfft. Always. My budget's five dollars, so what are your recommendations?"

His lips quirk up in amusement. "I know a place. You have five minutes while I take a shower." And with that, it seems to be settled that they are indeed going to breakfast together. If there's any awkwardness lingering in the air, Dawn decides to ignore it.

"Judging by the hour-long shower you took last night, I somehow don't believe you," she teases as she puts her hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to change."

"If you aren't ready within those five minutes, I'm leaving by myself," he states in that annoying drawl of his as he disappears inside his bedroom. "Don't let my hospitality from last night fool you."

"Duly noted. See you in a bit." She closes the door to his apartment and is about to go inside her own (she's quite proud of the fact that she's had the foresight to bring her key with her on last night's rampage - she's made it a point to have it on her at all times ever since the lockout incident), when a sound down the hall distracts her.

It's the irritable neighbor who not so kindly told her to shut up last night, though she barely recognizes him without his ridiculous sleeping cap on. He gives a huff of indignation in her direction, paired with a dirty glare, and she's amused by how undignified it looks on his wrinkly old face.

A vague memory of his threat to report her to the landlord makes her hold back her laughter though, and she nods at him in acknowledgment with as much reverence as she can muster. Then she goes inside her place quickly, hoping that she's managed to leave an impression of humility and deep remorse for having disturbed people's peace in the middle of the night.

The faint feeling of foreboding that runs up her spine in that moment should have been her first clue that this would somehow come back to bite her in the ass later.

* * *

"Hey, look at that guy over there," Dawn whispers as she leans in across the table so that only Paul can hear her.

He looks up at her in confusion, chewing on a bite of his sandwich. "What guy?"

She conspiratorially points towards a table close to the window. "That guy. I've been observing him since we got here."

Paul just continues to stare at her blankly. "What are you, a creepy stalker?"

"No, just look at him!"

He rolls his eyes and turns his head in the direction she's pointing at, looking as though it's the greatest effort he's ever had to make. "Just a normal guy who's drinking his coffee. So?"

"Exactly! He doesn't have a laptop, a tablet or a phone, nor is he meeting anybody. He's just sitting there and drinking his coffee, like a _psychopath_. Don't you think it's strange?"

"I think you're a psychopath. Remind me to never go anywhere with you again."

Dawn scowls as she directs her attention elsewhere. "Whatever. I just thought it was weird and wanted to make some conversation. And you're no fun."

"Yes, I'm grumpy, bitter and complicated. A few of my many charms," Paul replies sarcastically and takes a sip of his coffee.

"Hey, guys!" A loud voice calls from the entrance of the coffee shop and Dawn looks up to see a faintly familiar mop of unruly black hair. Paul nearly chokes on his coffee.

"What are you up to, pal?" Ash, Dawn recalls his name, comes up to their table and slaps her purple-headed companion on the back amicably. "Hey, you're the nice waitress from Brock's, right?"

"Yeah, hi." She gives him a friendly smile, pleased to hear that at least someone finds her nice. "I'm Dawn."

"What a pretty name! Mind if I sit with you guys?" Ash asks, already dragging a third chair from a nearby table with an oblivious grin spread all across his face.

"No, not at all!" As she says it, she notices that Paul is glaring at her, as if accusing her of fraternizing with the enemy. She frowns at him. From what she remembers these two are friends, so what's the glare about, Mister Grumpy Pants?

"Hi." Paul makes a grimace that she guesses is his attempt at a welcoming smile. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I had a gap in between my lectures and decided to come here to grab a bite." Ash flips open a menu and his eyes gleam as he skims over the breakfast meals. Dawn vaguely remembers his monstrous order at the diner and wonders just what his definition of 'a bite' is.

"But campus is all the way across town," Paul states blankly.

"Yeah, but the portion sizes in the university's cafeteria aren't enough for my growing boy body." Ash smiles toothily at the waitress who comes to take his order. "Hi, I'd like the club sandwich. It comes with fries, right? And a stack of blueberry pancakes, please. Oh, and orange juice! Thank you!"

Dawn chuckles at his childlike enthusiasm. Paul merely shakes his head and falls back into his trademark sour silence, until Ash addresses him again. "So, Paul! I waited for you to call after we met at Brock's, but I guess you were too busy studying. I get it, college sure is tough for me too! Anyway, wanna hang out tonight?"

Paul gives him an unenthusiastic look, seeming pained at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Dawn fully expects him to brush Ash off and is surprised when he merely shrugs in resignation. "Tonight's okay. I promised you, didn't I? It's bound to happen sooner or later, anyway, so why not get it over with."

Ash's face lights up. "Cool! I'll tell the guys! Are you up for game night at your place?"

He opens his mouth to reply and judging by the scowl on his face he's about to say no, but the other boy obliviously rambles on. "See, Drew is rooming with another guy on campus, and the apartment Gary and I rent is really, _really_ tiny…" Ash trails off and looks at him with big hopeful eyes.

Paul, for his part, looks as unmoved as a rock at his friend's pleas. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and pins him under a cold, appraising gaze. A minute passes and the silence is so heavily charged with suspense that Dawn starts feeling uncomfortable. Evidently, so does Ash, who squirms in his seat and rubs the back of his head sheepishly, for once picking up on the surrounding mood.

"On four conditions," Paul finally pronounces the verdict and it feels as though the coffee shop produces a collective sigh of relief. "One, you bring your own food. Two, you clean up after yourselves if you make a mess. Three, you don't make too much noise. And four, I reserve my right to kick you out at any time, should I decide that I've had my share of your company."

"And five, you let him win at Mario Kart so that he can regain a grain of his masculinity," Dawn adds jokingly, seizing the opportunity to insert herself in the conversation at the expense of her neighbor.

Paul stares at her reproachfully and feigns a look of betrayal at her underhanded comment. "You wound me. By all means, don't expect to hear another compliment from me again."

She just shrugs. Beside her Ash looks stricken with awe. "Thanks so much, dude! Tonight will be fun for sure! You won't regret this, I promise."

"Yes, yes, my hospitality is unmatched," Paul replies in his usual sarcastic monotone and lifts the coffee mug to his lips. Dawn tries not to chuckle as she thinks she sees a flicker of regret in his eyes already.

* * *

By the time the day rolls around and nears its end, she's completely forgotten about her brief morning encounter with the wrinkly embittered neighbor who-wears-unfortunate-sleep-headwear.

As she limps back home from a late afternoon study session at the library, she notices a rather ominous note taped on her door.

' _Urgent meeting of all the tenants in the building. 7 p.m., common room on the ground floor.'_

She guesses that now would be a good time to take the threat of getting her evicted seriously. It is a completely normal day, as long as you ignore the fact that the weirdest part is yet to come.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey, guys! Sorry this took so long compared to previous chapters, I was out of town for most of last month and didn't have much time to write. I hope you like this small dose of wannabe humor, and if not, give me advice on how to improve. In any case, please do tell me what you thought :) Prompts on situations that you'd like to see written are also welcome. Peace!

xoxo Ella


	7. a sense of community is important

Dawn trudges her feet to the common room on the ground floor of her building and it feels like she's walking towards her execution.

She's been craving a thrilling college experience, that much is true, but getting herself evicted will probably be taking the excitement a bit _too_ far. _Please have mercy on my poor student soul_ , she inwardly prays as she pushes the door open.

The first thing she notices upon her arrival is a bountiful array of finger food on a table near the corner, the sight of which immediately cheers her up and temporarily rids her mind of guillotine-related thoughts. The second thing she notices, however, is Paul, who rather unceremoniously tugs her arm back just as she reaches for a fruit tart.

"Hey!" She calls out in protest, but he seems profoundly untouched by her wails as he gruffly drags her away to the corner farthest from the food. She pouts at him. "What gives, neighbor?"

"Now's not the time to eat." Paul looks around cautiously and makes a discrete gesture towards the rest of the room. "Some of the things I've heard since I came here are bordering on murder threats towards the two of us. These people are going to kill us." He pauses and looks at her sternly, probably for additional intimidation purposes. "Or _worse_ , have us evicted."

"Jeez, Hermione. That's precisely why it's the _best_ time to eat! That way if I die, I die happy," Dawn replies in a faint attempt at humor, but looks around with unconcealed worry. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Paul confirms and leans on the wall behind him with arms crossed over his chest. "I guess we've been a tad _too_ loud for this community's taste."

She chews on her lip in contemplation as she leans next to him, wondering what this tenants' meeting has in store for her. If nothing else, at least having Paul up to his knees in crap just as much as her is a comfort. An awful, selfish kind of comfort, but what can she say – misery loves company after all.

"So, apparently this Drew guy likes your friend from the diner," Paul states out of the blue in a sudden change of subject.

She looks up at him in interest, more than willing to distract herself from their imminent doom with juicy gossip. "Who, May?"

"Yes, that one. How many friends do you have from the diner?" He snaps at her irritably.

"If this is your way of making small talk, you really suck at it. And I didn't know you were such a gossip," Dawn bites back in a low voice, slightly offended by his remark. Making quips at her for having no friends is rich coming from Jubilife's most bitter sourpuss.

"I'm _not_ a gossip. Ash called me and said that Drew invited May over for game night. She said that she'd feel weird around guys she didn't know, so for some stupid reason he told her you'd be there too." Paul snorts in derision and keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead, but Dawn sees he's trying to make himself appear more annoyed than he actually is.

A smile dances on her lips as she lifts her eyebrows teasingly. "Are you inviting me to your party?"

"Well, if I'm going to have four unwanted idiots over anyway, one more doesn't make a big difference. And it's not like I have a say in the matter." He shrugs nonchalantly. "Besides, we don't know for certain that we'll be living here by the end of the night, so any worries regarding the guest list for the gathering in my humble abode do seem rather fruitless at this point."

"God, do you _ever_ talk like a normal person? My head hurts just listening to you."

"The least of your worries at this very instant, I'm sure," Paul whispers just as the landlord closes the door behind him and assumes a rigid pose at the front of the small crowd in the common room. He clears his throat and briefly glances at a piece of paper he is holding in his hand.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I, uhm, have called this meeting to, er… address some complaints I've received." He's slightly shaking as he lifts a hand to wipe the sweat above his brow. His struggle with public speaking almost evokes pity in Dawn, but not quite, as she fully realizes she'll be openly under attack any minute now. "It has come to my attention that some of our residents have been making way too much noise for a respectable building such as ours. Namely, our newest and youngest residents."

At this he pointedly looks at Dawn and Paul and shakes his head disapprovingly. Dawn shifts uncomfortably and crosses her arms in front of her chest in a non-verbal attempt to defend herself from the stares she's receiving. "I'm sorry," she mumbles. "We'll try to keep it down, promise."

"Empty promises!" The neighbor without the sleeping cap suddenly jumps to his feet with his fist in the air in a very medieval-villager-seeks-justice sort of way. "These insufferable college kids don't know the definition of 'peace and quiet'! If any of you believe a word of this poppycock," he waves his finger across the room and glares at each and every tenant in the room, "then you're all fools! With these vandals in the building we can kiss our Model Neighbors award goodbye this year!"

"The what now?" Dawn blurts out. Paul elbows her in the ribs warningly, but she pays him no heed. "Excuse me, but this is insane! I have been excessively loud on one occasion, yes. But this is surely no reason to get me kicked out of the building! The academic year has already begun and there is nowhere else for me to go and God knows I'm working my ass off to be able to afford living in this _model_ building of yours. I demand some justice! This is the Sinnoh region, for goodness' sake, and as far as I know we strive to live in a democratic society, do we not? I don't know about you, but I personally don't see anything remotely democratic in the way things are run here! Perhaps what y'all need is some fresh meat in your wrinkly circle of power!"

"What our neighbor is trying to say," Paul intercepts her tirade with a much more diplomatic voice, "is that she is sorry for making noise and that this won't be a repeat offence."

"Lies! These youngsters are all rotten apples. In fact, I just heard them say that they're having a party tonight! A party, can you imagine! Oh, the things these walls must see!"

All stares turn to Paul expectantly and he falters in his response. "It's not a party _per say_. I'd much rather qualify it as an unofficial gathering of sorts."

"My friend and I will be quiet as graves, really," Dawn adds in what she hopes is a reassuring tone.

"Please refrain from calling me your friend in public," Paul scolds her under his breath. "These people are not your biggest fans right now and it does me no good to be associated with you."

Dawn's jaw drops and she's about to voice how betrayed she feels, when a woman in her sixties abruptly stands up from her chair as well. "Enough of this nonsense! I have a soap opera series finale to catch in ten minutes, so let's just get to voting already!"

"Very well!" The old man nods with bloodthirsty vigor that doesn't match his age. "All those in favor of evicting these two, raise your hand!"

"Now hold on just a second," the landlord speaks up from where he's been quietly watching the entire dispute unravel. "We're not evicting anybody. The purpose of this meeting is just to establish some rules and regulations for the sake of peaceful cohabitation."

"This will not stand! You're too meek to be our leader. All those in favor of overthrowing the current building super, raise your hand!"

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous." Paul takes a nearby unoccupied chair and steps on it to attract the attention of the suddenly chaotic crowd. "Everybody! The amount of energy you spend on superfluous matters is enviable, but I suggest all of you social justice warriors calm down for a second. Now listen here." He pauses for effect and takes a second to glare at the astonished faces around the common room. "Getting us evicted is unreasonable and I'll tell you why. It's not really us that's the problem here. I can guarantee that each and every one of you has at least _one_ annoying habit that your neighbors wish you didn't."

The old lady, impatient to get to her soap opera, snorts derisively. Paul pins her under his gaze and raises a challenging eyebrow. "You seem unconvinced, Madam. Let me illustrate my argument with some examples then. There's a guy on our floor who plays the tuba every Saturday at precisely seven o'clock in the morning. Raise your hand if you're here, Tuba boy."

A lanky twenty-something year old guy raises his hand nervously. "It's the only time I can practice," he explains sheepishly. "You see, it's always been my dream to join an orchestra, but sadly-"

"Thank you," Paul cuts his life story short. "Next up is that blond idiot in the apartment above me who likes to tap-dance for hours on end, and all the better if it's on a school night. I'm sure all of you are well acquainted with his talents."

"Hey, you keep me out of this or I'll fine you!" A blond boy clad in orange-white stripes shouts from his spot by the food table. "I fought for my rightful place in this building long before you came around, purple-headed jerk! You owe me a hundred dollars for the offence!"

This outburst briefly renders Paul speechless as he blinks at the blond boy in astonishment. Dawn wastes no time and uses this opportunity to fill the lull. "And that lady above me with the dozen cats," she adds. "Their constant meowing is like an excerpt from a torture chamber."

"Don't listen to her, Mittens," the lady in question mutters into her weirdly shaped shopping bag and hugs it closer to her chest.

"Folks, the boy does have a point. We all have vices that we would do well to overlook in the name of the collective wellbeing. I guess we could let the girl's weak moment of loudness pass this time, don't you think?" The landlord speaks up once more in a meek attempt to assume the role of a meditator and looks around with hopeful eyes.

"What a big pile of hogwash!" Sleepy McCappy stomps his foot on the floor impetuously. "The building's policy clearly states "last ones in, first ones out". That's the word of the law and this law we must follow!"

The landlord eyes Dawn and Paul worriedly, at a loss for a comeback to that. Paul clears his throat and takes control over the debate once more. "Let's try to be more tolerant, people. You do realize that if you throw this girl out on the street, no one else will take her in, right?" He seems to hesitate for a brief moment, before continuing. "Not in her condition."

The chatter effectively stills as his words sink in. Dawn gives him a confused sideways glance as a few people whisper "what condition" between themselves.

"She has issues, you know," Paul resumes, gaining confidence in the tale he's begun spinning, encouraged by having every last person in the room hanging onto his words. "Do you think she'd shout in the hallway in the middle of the night otherwise? Do you think it's easy for her to go to class like a normal person, to _act_ like a normal person one hundred percent of the time? And the fact that she _tries_ ," at this he points at her like a proud father with all the pathos of a patriot who holds undying love for his country. "is _so_ brave."

"Wow," Dawn mutters to herself and tries to shrink away from the dozens pairs of eyes that are now glued on her.

"And listening to the cats run around the ceiling is really not good for her anxiety, you know," Paul continues without missing a beat. "And she's really anxious, which may have been why you heard her shouting at night. If anything, the collective ruckus in this building is provoking the poor girl's mental episodes. Imagine the Model Neighbors Committee getting wind of you shutting your door to this defenseless troubled creature."

"You might be overdoing it a bit," Dawn whispers to him, a tad annoyed that he's painted her as a nutcase to all her neighbors.

"You know what, I hate those damn cats too!" Sleepy McCappy exclaims suddenly, perhaps swayed by the prospect of being disqualified by the Model Neighbors Committee. "How many times have I told you, Althea: you'll die one day and no one will know, because the cats will eat you before the smell starts to spread!"

As the bickering among the neighbors resumes in full force, Paul gets off the chair he's been standing on and makes a quick assessment of the situation. Then he turns towards Dawn and grabs her by the hand like he has something of life-threatening importance to impart. "I think now may be the opportune moment for us to make our exit."

"For the first time ever, I think you may be right. Let's go."

The blond guy who's also a passionate tap-dancer notices them making their way towards the door and calls, "Hey you! Hold up, you can't just leave a tenants' meeting! I'll fine you!"

Dawn spares him an apologetic look and shrugs in his direction. "Sorry, the mountains are calling and we must skedaddle."

Once out in the blissfully empty hall, she glances at Paul as they walk side by side back to their apartments.

"Could you please stop staring at me? A simple 'thank you' will suffice."

"You're a psychopath."

Paul smirks, but doesn't look her way. "I prefer creative."

"Creative, sure. Well, that was fun. Should definitely do it again sometime. We make a fun team though, don't you think?"

"We? There's no we. I did this all by myself. Mostly. And I would honestly rather do anything other than _that_ again."

"Hm." Dawn stops in front of her door and looks at Paul contemplatively. "You wanna know what I'm thinking?"

"Not really, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"I'm thinking you consider me a friend. You wouldn't make up all of that crap just for anybody. Am I wrong?"

Paul's lips quirk up in a half-smile that doesn't go unnoticed by Dawn. "You are. Who's to say that I don't in fact believe you are a nutcase on the loose?"

She rolls her eyes as she unlocks her door. "Whatever, neighbor. See you in a bit at your _unofficial gathering_. I hope for your sake that you haven't invited many other non-friends of yours."

He opens his own door and addresses her one last time before going inside. "Really, a simple 'thank you' would have gone a long way."

* * *

 **A/N:** It's been a while. Had fun with this one, hope you did too. Leave me your thoughts if you'd like. Cheers!

xoxo ella


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